The Frog Princess (Ginny's Story)
by Frog-Princess1
Summary: *This story has been revised!* A story that chronicles parts of Ginny's fourth year and her feelings for Harry. There is much apprehension regarding return of Voldemort, and we'll see a few familiar characters in the near future...
1. Chapter One

The Frog Princess:  
Ginny's Story  
  
By Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling is the rightful owner of everything that is HP; I do not claim to own any of it. This is merely fanfiction.  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
  
_ First entry.  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
My name is Ginny Weasley, and for the first time in my life, my twin brothers are treating me like royalty. The downside? The humiliating nickname they've given me - "The Frog Princess."  
  
I suppose it all started with one particularly memorable Valentine's Day. I was in my first year at Hogwarts. I don't know what made me do it... I was a great deal less mature back then. But for some reason beyond my comprehension, I decided to send Harry Potter a singing Valentine. I still know it by heart.  
  
Anyway, the day before we left for Hogwarts, Fred and George (who think they've got the run of the school just because they're going into seventh year) were sitting around and recounting the "good times we've had all these years," and they just had to bring it up. Right when I was beginning to think people had forgotten about it, too. I thought - just maybe - people were starting to respect me a little more. But good old Fred and George - they just couldn't resist. They had to remind everyone.  
  
And now, it isn't Ginny anymore - it's "Frog Princess." Or "Her Majesty." Or even "Your Highness."  
  
  
  
_ Ginny stopped writing and stared blankly out the window. For once, there was silence in the usual compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger stared uncertainly at one another. Ginny, the youngest of the Weasleys and the only girl, now sat with her arms crossed, her face and ears a deep shade of pink.  
  
"Ribbit."  
  
The twins, Fred and George Weasley, sniggered under their breath as Ginny turned around to look at them. "Stop it," she said softly, then resumed looking out again at the lush green countryside.  
  
"Ribbit," repeated one of the twins, breaking the silence yet again. "Ribbit. Ribbit."  
  
"Come on, stupid, lay off it already," said Ron, annoyed. "You'd better knock it off before you make her mad."  
  
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. Nothing had been said about it on the train, but the Weasleys were all acting a little strangely. "All right, you two," demanded Hermione. "What's this all about?"  
  
Ginny unfolded her arms and crossed her hands in her lap. She spoke in a barely audible whisper. "They're making fun of me," she said, looking down. "Because..." But she couldn't finish.  
  
"In the interest of being fair," said George, "you should probably hear both sides of the story."  
  
"We were minding our own business," said Fred loudly. "And there was one of Ginny's old diaries, from a few years ago. We weren't going to read it, but honestly, would you have walked away from a diary that was sitting wide open like that?"  
  
"That's not what happened," argued Ron. Ginny remained silent. "You knocked it to the floor. You were being a pair of great prats and knocked it down, and it _fell open_. I was there."  
  
Ginny sighed. "I wish you'd have just given it back," she said in a much quieter tone than Ron. It was nice he was sticking up for her, but she knew it would be hopeless to persist. It'd probably only make things worse.  
  
"Hey, we're sorry, Ginny," said George sincerely. "We really are."  
  
"I still don't understand," Hermione said. "Why are you making fun of Ginny?"  
  
"Well," continued Fred. He dug around in the pocket of his robes. "We found this."  
  
He was holding up a picture that had been torn from the pages of a story-book. It showed a beautiful princess, wearing an elegant dress with flowing skirts. A sparkling crown was fixed atop her golden curls.  
  
"We'd been thinking about that poem Ginny wrote," said Fred. "How did it go again, George? 'His eyes are green as a fresh pickled toad...' " He batted his eyelashes at Harry, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
"Fred!" Ginny hissed. Fred immediately grew quiet and apologized to his sister, but the damage had been done. Ginny fought to remain in her seat. Part of her wanted to duck under the table and hide, and the other part wanted to jump over it at Fred and George. She sat there for a few moments, the dreadful inner struggle beginning to make her feel sick.  
  
Ginny lowered her head, but not before Harry caught a glimpse of her pretty, freckled face. It was soon thoroughly soaked with tears. Hermione got up, shot the twins the same exasperated glare Ron had been giving them, and put a reassuring arm around the younger girl.  
  
George was the first to speak up. "What's up with Gin?" he asked quietly, as if unaware he and his twin had been the cause of the problem in the first place. Fred shrugged. "Hormones," he replied in a loud whisper, and George nodded knowingly. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hey," said Fred defensively. "Just trying to keep things light."  
  
"See?" Ron said, in an I-told-you-so sort of voice. "You see what you've done? Now she's upset. You should have just given it a rest!"  
  
"What was that?" Fred looked at George, who replied, "Did you hear it too, Fred? I could've sworn it sounded just like dear Percy!"  
  
Ron leaned back in his seat. "I do not," he growled, though in a somewhat dejected tone. "And don't try and change the subject. You really should apologize."  
  
"_Again!?_ For what?"  
  
As the argument carried on, Ginny glanced at Harry for a moment, her eyes pleading. He looked back at her, somehow knowing just what she felt. Secretly, Ginny wished she could have just kept on gazing into Harry's green eyes, but she forced herself to look away. She hurriedly dried her face for the tenth time and whispered something to Hermione.  
  
Fred sighed, realizing he was fighting a losing battle against his younger sibling. "We really didn't mean to make you cry, Ginny," he admitted. "It's just that, you know... it's a little tense, with You-Know-Who hiding out. We thought it would be funny - just like the story you were reading about in the Muggle fairy tale book Dad gave you--"  
  
"No, no, Fred, that was a frog prince." George couldn't help winking at Harry, but caught a severe look from Hermione. The smirk on his face vanished.  
  
"Ah, but don't you see?" Fred pressed on. "The prince and princess always get married in Muggle tales--"  
  
"Wouldn't that make us some sort of royalty then?" asked George.  
  
Both twins burst out laughing. "Frog royalty?" Fred gave a low bow to George. "Your Highness," he said, while his twin did the same. They finally succeeded in making Ginny smile, though Ginny tried to hide it.  
  
_Frog spawn, more like,_ she thought to herself bitterly. She resumed scribbling in her diary.  
  
  
  
_ Sometimes I wish those two would just leave me alone. I know it's nothing personal, that they treat everyone that way. I realize that they're only trying to help by keeping us laughing. But it's the worst feeling when they tease me in front of Harry.  
  
I know Harry's probably disgusted. I worry he'll start avoiding me. I'm nothing more than a little kid to him, and the way I feel is just an annoyance. I know he'll never think of me the same way.  
  
So why can't I just let this go?  
  
_


	2. Chapter Two

The Frog Princess:  
Ginny's Story  
  
By Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter was created by J. K. Rowling, not me.  
  
  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
As always, the Great Hall looked spectacular. A few first year students marveled at the candles hanging suspended overhead; others sat gaping, in awe, at the enchanted ceiling, which showed countless numbers of glittering stars in a velvety blue-black sky.  
  
Ginny Weasley remained hunched over her diary, filling up page after page. She was hardly paying attention to the ongoing Sorting ceremony. "GRYFFINDOR!" bellowed the hat, as the others at the table exploded with cheers and applause. To Ginny, immersed in her own thoughts, it all seemed irritating background noise.  
  
The applause subsided as Blackmoore, Emma took her seat at the Gryffindor table and Candlewick, Bruno nervously approached the Sorting Hat. Harry stole a glance at Ginny, who seemed to be avoiding him.  
  
He wished she would at least try and watch the ceremony. Still, she had stopped crying much earlier, which was in itself a slight improvement. Harry hated seeing girls cry. Maybe, during the feast, he would try to make Ginny smile - just to see if he could. After all, she had such a nice smile.  
  
Ginny was beginning to have that strange feeling one gets when they know they're being watched. Probably Colin Creevey. Ginny smiled weakly at the thought of her old acquaintance and looked up. But to her surprise - and horror - it was not Colin who was watching her, but Harry.  
  
Their eyes met, and Ginny turned slightly pink. Ron was watching, unsure what to make of it, though he seemed slightly amused.  
  
Harry grinned and winked at Ginny, who allowed herself a small smile in return.  
  
The feast begun shortly. Within a few minutes, Professor McGonagall made her way to where the Gryffindors sat. The head of Gryffindor house, McGonagall was a rather stern-looking woman in emerald green robes. "Pardon me, everyone," she said. "Miss Weasley?"  
  
Ginny turned, looking up at her. "Yes, Professor?" she asked curiously.  
  
McGonagall's severe expression vanished as she replied, "Your course schedule" (which she handed over to Ginny). "You haven't forgotten our discussion, I presume?"  
  
"Oh!" said Ginny. "Er, of course not, Professor McGonagall."  
  
Hermione was already examining Ginny's schedule. "Oh, Ginny, you're taking advanced classes this year!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Not exactly," Professor McGonagall explained, her eyes shining with an emotion that must have been pride. "You see, Miss Weasley has shown much promise in her classes. We have arranged, upon her parents' request, for her to move up in a few of her courses to fifth year level--"  
  
She stopped for a moment, now smiling. "Perhaps you've had a good influence on her, Miss Granger."  
  
Ron gave a great sigh, causing everyone to turn and stare at him. "Oh - no, no!" he said suddenly. "It isn't about you, Ginny. I was just thinking... about something else." He absent-mindedly muttered something that sounded like, "Er... congratulations, Gin."  
  
McGonagall waited impatiently with her hands on her hips. "Miss Weasley, I'd appreciate it if you stopped by my classroom after the feast. I've got to prepare for class tomorrow, but I'd like to be able to discuss the changes in your schedule with fewer interruptions."  
  
But no matter how hard McGonagall tried to conceal it, she couldn't hide the fact that she was happy about having two Gryffindor students who were interested in taking higher-level courses. Maybe she'd had a little too much iced pumpkin juice, Harry thought to himself. Still, he was proud of Ginny too.  
  
Hermione picked up her knife and began buttering a dinner roll. "I think it's good for Ginny to challenge herself a little acedemically," she said to Ron. Her voice was quiet and sweet, yet she spoke with her nose in the air, in such a manner that Ginny was reminded of Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. Hermione continued, in a sort of agree-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you tone, "A girl has the right to do what she wants, you know."  
  
Ron buried his face in his hands. "You're taking this the wrong way. I never said Ginny doing well in class would be a bad thing." There was something he'd been wanting to tell Hermione, a certain something he'd been practicing in front of the mirror all summer long. Something he hadn't revealed to anyone - yet somehow, Harry must have suspected him, because every time Ron got up the courage to speak with Hermione, Harry began to smirk...  
  
"Ron," said Hermione, now trying to cut a bit of steak. "What is it you were thinking about, then?"  
  
"Nothing," he said quickly.  
  
Ginny glanced from one to the other; it certainly seemed very tense. Hermione sighed. "Ron, I'm only--"  
  
"Just put the knife down, okay?" Ron said uneasily.  
  
"You two," Ginny said, giggling for the first time that day. "I can tell where this is going. Honestly, I think you just argue for the sake of arguing, and everyone knows why. Now apologize before it goes any further." And with that, she took a drink from her goblet and pretended to be preoccupied, writing like mad in her diary again, although her quill didn't touch the page once. Every now and then she'd glance up at Ron and Hermione.  
  
Hermione raised her eyes to the ceiling, but she did put the knife down, and she was obviously considering what Ginny had said. Her face was very pink, and she didn't meet Ron's eyes as she spoke. "Alright, alright, just let me start over..." She took a deep, steadying breath. "What I meant," she said to him, "was that you were... er... you were very nice to your sister on the train today, Ron. I was... um, that is, I'm sometimes, er..." She gulped, took another deep breath, and finished hurriedly, "Proud of you."  
  
At that moment, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, put up a hand to silence the crowd and began to speak. "If you please, everyone," he said. "Might I make a few additional announcements?"  
  
The "additional announcements" included that the Forbidden Forest was still off limits to all students; that those interested in trying out for available positions on the Quidditch teams should speak with the head of their respective houses within two to three weeks; and finally, that Defense Against the Dark Arts classes (which were originally to be postponed until further notice) would commence the next day. Students groaned and sighed, except for Hermione, who payed close attention to Dumbledore's speech.  
  
"The reason for this," the headmaster continued, "is that we have managed to find a new teacher willing to fill the position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."  
  
A few students whispered to their friends, or sniggered quietly. For the past few years, no one had lasted more than a year as teacher for that particular class, so they had good reason to believe that the position was jinxed.  
  
"I have been informed that she has just arrived, and I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you. Let us all welcome her back. Professor Delacour?"  
  
Harry and Hermione stared. "Fleur?"  
  
Hermione's face fell. "Oh," she said. "I remember her. She was very... nice... towards the end of the year, anyway..."  
  
Nearly the entire male half of the student body stared unblinkingly as she passed, blond hair flying behind her. She smiled, waving happily at her students-to-be. Hermione looked sadly at Ron, expecting him to be gazing at the part-girl, part-veela that was making her way to where Dumbledore stood. Ron, however, was gawking at Hermione.  
  
Going red as Hermione noticed, Ron looked away quickly, though every so often he'd continue shooting sideways glances. Hermione was blushing.  
  
Ginny suddenly noticed the wide smile that was on her own face. She was quite satisfied with what she saw, and felt even more so upon remembering that she had done her part to encourage it. She'd completely forgotten about the events of the day when her gaze fell upon Fred and George, sitting further down the table.  
  
She managed to catch Fred's eye, and after a moment Ginny could have sworn he looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. But she must have been imagining things, because the next thing she knew, he was talking and laughing with Angelina Johnson again.  
  
"What's wrong, Ginny?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Oh... nothing," Ginny lied.  
  
Ron was catching on. "Lighten up, Gin, I don't think they'll mention it again," he said cheerfully, although the look on his face told Ginny that he didn't fully believe that statement. Then Ron did something he hadn't done in a very long time; he put his arm around his sister and forced a grin.  
  
Ginny, too, smiled again - a task that somehow required so much more effort than it had just moments ago.  
  



	3. Chapter Three

The Frog Princess  
(Ginny's Story)  
  
by Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to J. K. Rowling, creator of Harry Potter, not me.  
  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
Ginny had been so exhausted that she'd fallen asleep without bothering to change out of her robes. When she awoke, the room was already filled with sunlight. She inhaled deeply, sat up, and stretched. She automatically looked to the window, wondering how she could have forgotten the serene beauty of the morning as the light shone down on the surrounding landscape.  
  
She took a quick shower, got dressed, and glanced hopelessly at her reflection in the mirror. A few girls remained asleep, so Ginny left quietly, hoping she'd have enough time to grab a quick breakfast before her first class.  
  
It wasn't as late as she'd thought; there were a few small groups of students scattered around the Gryffindor common room, apparently getting ready to go to breakfast. Ginny quickly spotted her brother Ron, who was holding the portrait open so Hermione could step out.  
  
"Hey, Gin," Ron said, and Ginny returned the greeting. "We were just going to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry's already gone down." Ron continued politely holding open the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
Hermione smiled. "I think he wanted to talk to you, Ginny," she said with a wink. Ginny's heart skipped a beat. _Harry wants to see me?_ she thought.  
  
"Why don't you go down there now and find him," Ron suggested, "and we'll meet up with you in a few minutes?" Ginny agreed, and the minute she was gone, Ron made his way to the back of the room to find the twins. Hermione hung back, waiting for Ron, though mostly because she was curious to see just what he thought he was doing. She could hear him talking to them quietly, but couldn't tell what was being said. She took a few steps closer.  
  
"I know, I know," Ron admitted impatiently, "You were just trying to make a joke. And you've been loads better about it. But can't you just... I dunno..." He cast around for the right words. "...Include her once in a while?" He bit his lip. "It's not that you embarrass her. You know Ginny, she's usually got a sense of humor. But I think she's feeling really left out."  
  
The twins exchanged glances, suddenly very serious. Fred raised an eyebrow. "What're you getting at, Ron?"  
  
Ron sighed. "You don't know what it's like," he began slowly, "not to be noticed in your own family... to have so much to live up to. It comes naturally to the two of you. Believe it or not, Ginny actually looks up to you. Can't you just include her in a few of your pranks or something, rather than laughing at her?"  
  
He hung his head sadly. "You... you could even use me as a target," he said, "as long as you try to help her feel better about things. This is a tough time... and you know how nervous she gets," he added in an even softer tone, "about... _You-Know-Who..._"  
  
This concluded Ron's speech, and Fred and George were silent for a moment. "What's with you? Since when are you so over-protective of Ginny?" Fred asked, bewildered, turning to George. "Either he's dying or he's gone insane!"  
  
"Couldn't agree more," said George, "though he may have a point. It's a bit much, that's all."  
  
Fred scowled. "We didn't make her feel bad on purpose." But he seemed to be considering what his brothers had said.  
  
"You're pathetic, Ronniekins."  
  
Ron shrugged, knowing this meant they were giving in. "I don't care."  
  
He turned away and walked towards the portrait hole, where Hermione was still waiting for him. "Alright, we can leave now," he said casually.  
  
"Wait, Ron." Ron froze, but he soon saw that Fred was grinning at him. "We won't do anything to you."  
  
Finally, Ron nodded slowly and smiled. "...Appreciate it," he said.  
  
"And Ron?" added George.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"This conversation _never happened_. Got it?"  
  
Ron's grin broadened. "Got it."  
  
A feeling of satisfaction washed over him as he and Hermione exited the common room. "I was a pretty good big brother back there, I reckon," he joked, though he was grinning proudly.  
  
  
  
Harry had a plateful of food in front of him, but he wasn't hungry, and barely ate. He spotted a flash of red hair and looked up to see Ginny Weasley standing beside him.  
  
"Good morning, Ginny," he said automatically.  
  
"Er... morning, Harry," replied Ginny in a quiet tone. There was an awkward silence.  
  
"You... look nice today," Harry offered.  
  
Ginny brushed a few strands of hair over her shoulder, blushing shyly. "Um, thank you," she mumbled. "Ron and Hermione said you wanted to talk to me about something?" Suddenly Harry remembered. "Oh - yeah," he said quickly. "About yesterday--"  
  
"No, Harry, I really should--"  
  
Ginny stopped as Ron and Hermione came towards them, each blushing deep red. A few of the Gryffindors whistled or clapped as the two walked past, arm-in-arm. They did their best to ignore this and hurriedly took their seats.  
  
Harry smirked, received a nasty glare from Ron, and decided it was best not to say anything. He turned to Ginny, who looked rather pleased at seeing Ron and Hermione together. "Where was I?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron and Hermione's eyes met, and each of them smiled briefly before looking away. Ginny almost laughed at this. "Oh... right, well... I was just going to say..." Ginny trailed off. She stole a sideways glance at Harry and thought for a moment. "It can wait," she said finally, a faint smile on her face as she took a seat at the table and started on her breakfast.  
  



	4. Chapter Four

The Frog Princess  
(Ginny's Story)  
  
by Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: Anything & everything you recognize from HP belongs to J. K. Rowling, almighty goddess of fiction. This is purely fan work.  
  
A/N: I apologize for the delay! I've been working on my MWPP fic. Here's chapter four!  
  
  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
Ginny, having eaten little at the feast the previous night, found that her appetite was back. There was a dull, hungry sort of ache in the pit of her stomach, and she quickly started on the bacon and eggs on the plate in front of her.  
  
Despite everything else that was going on, she was looking forward to the start of classes that day. She ignored the glances Harry kept throwing at her every so often, knowing she was probably imagining it anyway, and tried to keep her mind on other things. If she was going to start out the year being called ridiculous names, at least she could try and keep her dignity.  
  
She was actually managing to do just that - keep her mind occupied - and quite well, in fact. She was in the middle of a conversation with a student in her year, a girl with pale skin, long brown hair, and soft gray-green eyes. Her name was Kestrel. Ginny found it easy to forget about what was troubling her, for Kestrel made several jokes and even did a few imitations, and once or twice Ginny found herself laughing. But that was before the mail came.  
  
Within seconds, the Great Hall was filled with owls. It was chaos, with the birds swooping this way and that, flapping furiously, occasionally dropping packages and parcels of various sizes. After being away from the beating of hundreds of wings for three months, one was almost surprised at how much noise it created.  
  
A rather large tawny owl made its way straight towards Hermione, releasing a bundle of newspapers from its talons. Hermione reached up and caught it.  
  
"Finally!" she said, mostly to herself, as she opened up the paper. "I haven't been able to get ahold of the Daily Prophet for ages. It'll be good to see just what's going on--"  
  
She stopped mid-sentence and put the paper down.  
  
"What is it?" asked Harry, concerned. Ron peered down at the front page, which read in big, bold letters: "**THE RETURN OF HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED?**" He had gone very white. He swallowed and then looked back at Harry. Hermione handed him the newspaper, shaking. It was just what each of them had been dreading. Ginny and Kestrel had fallen silent, watching Harry as he read over the article, his expression impossible to read.  
  
"Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge denies You-Know-Who has regained power," Harry read in a low voice, "but sources say that recent disappearances may be the work of the Dark Lord. Ministry officials assured us that the disappearances of five wizards and three Muggles in a single week are in no way linked to You-Know-Who..."  
  
Harry looked up from the paper. "I don't believe it," he said quietly to Ron and Hermione. "Voldemort's been hiding out all summer, probably trying to get his old followers back, and they _still_ aren't doing anything about it!" He ran a hand anxiously through his messy black hair. "You remember what Dumbledore said at the end of last year. People have got to believe him... Fudge can't just keep pretending nothing's wrong..."  
  
He suddenly realized Ginny had been staring at him, and glared back at her. Ginny was startled by this and, looking hurt, immediately turned back to Kestrel. Kestrel had also been listening and looked deeply shaken. Harry hadn't meant to do that, he'd just been so upset at reading this news that he didn't think about what he was doing. Anger always made him act rather impulsively. But before he could apologize, Ron spoke up. "What d'you think Dumbledore's planning to do about all this?" he questioned.  
  
"I don't know," Hermione said thoughtfully, "but I think it would be a good idea to save this conversation for later..."  
  
Harry nodded. He turned back to face Ginny again and opened his mouth to speak, but she had left.  
  
"Ginny, wait!" Kestrel called after her. It was no use.  
  
"Excuse me," Harry said to her, softening. "D'you know if Ginny--"  
  
"She left because she was really worried about that thing in the Prophet," Kestrel said quietly. "Lot of bad memories, you know? I think she just needed to be alone for a while." Harry didn't ask for any further explanation. The girl was smiling weakly. "Don't feel so bad. It wasn't about you."  
  
Somehow, this didn't comfort him at all.  
  
  
  
Later that day, in the middle of Transfiguration class, Ginny sat twirling a strand of hair around her finger, a nervous habit she'd been unable to break for years. _What is all this about?_ she thought. _I remember what Dumbledore told everyone before the summer holiday, but it's still so hard to believe... he could be coming back..._  
  
"Who would like to read next?" asked Professor McGonagall. The class had been reading certain parts of the text aloud. Ginny looked around. She was in the same classroom as her brother Ron... which, of course, meant that Harry was in it as well. She was always aware of this, no matter what she was doing, but did her best to ignore the butterflies fluttering round and round in her stomach. She raised her hand a little more confidently than she felt. "Miss Weasley," McGonagall said. "Thank you. Please begin at the top of page 26."  
  
Ginny gulped, but smiled sweetly. "Er... okay..." She found her place and began to read. Her mind kept drifting here and there, but she managed to read an entire page without making any mistakes. It was all about the importance of transfiguration in a qualified wizard or witch's daily life, and how transfiguration was making life easier and improving steadily since the Middle Ages.  
  
Finally Professor McGonagall stopped her and called on someone else. "Mr. Finnigan," she said sharply. Seamus had somehow fallen asleep sitting upright in his chair. "I'm awake," he said, blinking.  
  
Ginny was once again lost in her thoughts. _Harry's been acting differently towards me lately. Not that I don't want him smiling at me for no reason... but it's just weird, like he feels sorry for me. Why should he? I don't want anyone's pity._  
  
She looked over her right shoulder at Harry, who was sitting towards the back of the room.  
  
He was looking at her.  
  
Ginny snapped her head around and faced the front of the room again. Her heart was pounding. _I have to stop it_, she silently told herself. _I was getting so much better about this whole crush on Harry. I'm not eleven years old anymore..._  
  
She hated to relive her first year. She had almost died then. But she remembered it now, her heart still pounding fiercely in her chest. _If he is coming back, I'm going to be ready for anything. I can take care of myself... and what's more, I can prove it._  
  
She knew that a lot had changed since her first year at Hogwarts. And while she still retained the looks of a little girl - same full, freckled face, same sparkling brown eyes, same long red hair she'd always had - she was a very different person now. She wanted Harry to be there to protect her, but she had to face the facts and be realistic about the situation. It's funny how intuition works sometimes. It was almost as if she knew something dark was coming, something difficult which would require all of Ginny's strength. But she couldn't have known. Either way, she made up her mind to look out for herself. She was not going to rely on anyone else to keep her safe. A frog princess, as Ginny mused, couldn't always rely on her knight in shining armor. What if he never came?  
  



	5. Chapter Five

The Frog Princess  
(Ginny's Story)  
  
by Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: I own nothing from Harry Potter, and everything belongs to J. K. Rowling, this being just a fanfic of course.  
  
A/N: Okay, so up until this point, the chapters have been a little disappointing and sad. I realize this. But things will work themselves out. Have no fear, good reviewers, and don't despair. =)  
  
  
  
Chapter Five  
  
  
  
"Where's Ginny?" asked Ron, looking up from the chessboard. His younger sister was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"I bet she's upstairs," said Hermione with a yawn. She got up from her place at the table, closed the textbook she'd been reading, and stretched. Though she hated to admit it, she'd been studying for quite a while, and it was about time to take a break. "I thought I saw her head up there earlier. I'll go up and see if I can find her."  
  
Hermione had guessed correctly, as she discovered upon entering the girls' dormitory. The door to the fourth years' room was wide open, and Hermione peered inside only to spot Ginny fast asleep, sprawled facedown with her diary lying close to her face. The diary wasn't in good condition; some of the papers were falling out at the spine. A special quill she'd bought in Hogsmeade the previous year, one which was enchanted to require no messy ink, was still clutched in her right hand.  
  
Hermine gave a thin smile. She hated Divination, that was never going to change - but she was fascinated with the way peoples' minds worked. She was especially interested in dreams, and sometimes wondered what other people dreamed about. She'd rarely told anyone about this. After all, who was there to tell? Imagine explaining such a thing to a couple of boys!  
  
She took the quill out of Ginny's hand, closed the diary without looking down at what was written on the page, and set them both at the foot of the bed. In a very sisterly way, she covered Ginny up with the soft scarlet blankets and left the room.  
  
Ginny, meanwhile, had slipped far into the realm of sleep. She stirred, smiled a little, and slept on.  
  
Her mind was filled with thoughts of Muggle fairy tales from the book her father had given her. And not only that, but thoughts of her parents back home, and thoughts of Ron, who had recently taken it upon himself to look out for Ginny. Thoughts of Fred and George being transformed from frogs to people.  
  
There were thoughts of advanced classes and the occasional insecurity of not being able to keep up with the fifth year students... and then there were thoughts of Harry. Life as a witch wasn't all bad, but if only it were more like a fairy tale - more like a dream...  
  
In reality, Harry had lost another chess match to Ron. There was still a lot of time before dinner, so he now distracted himself with sitting before the fireplace and polishing the Firebolt. The new captain of the Quidditch team, Angelina Johnson, wanted to start practicing right away (within the next few days, in fact) and Harry couldn't wait. He wondered if Ginny liked flying. Wait a minute, where did that come from? He shook his head. It had been a rather eventful day, he supposed, and random thoughts kept entering his mind.  
  
He chuckled in spite of himself. A rather eventful day indeed.  
  
First, in Transfiguration, after a brief review (the history of transfiguration versus transfiguration in modern times), Professor McGonagall had demonstrated for the class a "three-part transfiguration of an inanimate object." She changed an ordinary teapot first into a hedgehog, then proceeded to transform it into a rather large, smelly hog before returning it to its original form.  
  
It had been primarily for review (three-part transfigurations weren't all that challenging), but they had had a rather difficult time catching the animal, which took off running laps around the small classroom. Finally, after it trampled over McGonagall's foot, she shouted "Consisto!" and the pig stopped almost immediately. It gave a loud, startling squeal as she tapped it with her wand, and then it was a plain teapot again. By the time class ended, nearly every person's stomach ached from laughing so hard. Everyone but McGonagall.  
  
And if Transfiguration had been exciting, it was nothing compared to Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid needed help feeding a particularly disagreeable group of "shrinking serpents." The problem was that whenever one of them was caught, it would shrink down to the size of a worm and slide away from its captor. Lavender Brown was the first to discover this, and began to shriek as the creature wriggled free of her grasp. "I swear it tried to bite me!" she gasped. "Are you sure those things aren't poisonous, Professor Hagrid?"  
  
Hagrid laughed warmly. "Nah, there's no reason ter be worryin' about them little buggers," he said to Lavender. "Blimey, they don' even have teeth. That's why I wanted yer help feedin' 'em, but I guess I'll just have ter figure it out on me own time." Harry chuckled, catching Hagrid's eye.  
  
The day had gone by quickly, and with everything that had happened, Ginny had good reason to be exhausted. Harry carried his broomstick with him as he climbed the stairs to the boys' dorm. After the Firebolt, which was gleaming at the handle and had every twig in place, was carefully put away, Harry exited the room. But before he could start back down the stairs, something caught his eye. It was nothing more than a piece of paper which looked like it had fallen out of a book, but his name was written on it. He picked it up curiously and read, continuing down the stairs.  
  
"I know Harry's probably disgusted. I worry he'll start avoiding me. I'm nothing more than a little kid to him, and the way I feel is just an annoyance. I know he'll never think of me the same way."  
  
Reaching the bottom step, Harry nearly dropped the paper in shock as he realized... it had been a complete accident... but he'd just read an entry from Ginny's diary.  
  
He started as he saw that Ginny had just come down the other staircase. She yawned. "Hello, everyone," she said, still groggy. "Everyone" was only Ron and Hermione, who were caught up in a game of chess. Then Ginny saw the look on Harry's face. She fought to remain calm as she looked at him, but unbelievably, miraculously - she managed. "Oh, hello, Harry," she said nonchalantly (or so she hoped). Harry automatically tightened his grip on the paper and shoved it into the pocket of his robes, hoping no one had noticed. "Hi, Ginny," he started to say, but Ginny saw the paper.  
  
"What's that?" she asked quietly.  
  
Harry, seeing no way out, slowly emptied his pocket. Ginny's face went scarlet as she realized what he held in his hand. She inhaled deeply, glancing around the room to make sure no one was paying attention. She looked into Harry's eyes. "You read it then?" she said softly.  
  
Harry was feeling very uncomfortable. "Let's head to the library and talk about it there," he said.  
  
Both were silent as they passed through the hallways, but as soon as they entered the library, Harry led Ginny to a table in the corner, just out of Madam Pince's view, and began to speak. "I didn't mean to, it was an accident," Harry said in a rush, not waiting for a prompt. "It was just lying on the floor, and I picked it up because it had my name on it, only it wasn't til after I read a few sentences that I realized what it was, and by then it was too late--"  
  
He suddenly became aware that he was only digging himself deeper. "Er... d'you want it back?" He extended his hand, and she cast her eyes upon the paper nervously, recognizing the entry she'd been writing on the Hogwarts Express. At length, she shook her head. "No, it's alright... go ahead and throw it away. It's trash." She bit her lip and looked down.  
  
Harry ignored this and handed it back to her. "Take it," he insisted, pressing it into her hands. "I'll forget this if you will." Ginny looked confused, but eventually agreed. There was a rather awkward silence.  
  
"I have to ask you," said Harry. "Did you really mean what you wrote?"  
  
Ginny shrugged. "I suppose so... that's why people keep journals and diaries, isn't it? To write down their thoughts?"  
  
Another silence, but it was brief. Harry and Ginny both began to speak at the same time, but stopped. Harry laughed and Ginny blushed slightly. "You first," she said politely.  
  
"I don't feel that way, Ginny, you know that."  
  
Ginny couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You don't?"  
  
"No, of course not. We're friends, aren't we?"  
  
Ginny's heart sank. "Oh... yes... er, friends."  
  
Harry nodded awkwardly. "You don't need to feel... er, you know - ashamed of anything." Ginny seemed to understand this, so he didn't add anything else. But she looked a little disappointed. Just as both of them were about to get up and leave, Harry turned and placed a hand on Ginny's arm.  
  
"I've just had an idea," he said, brightening. "Would you like to come and watch practice sometime?"  
  
Ginny looked around, as if making sure he was really talking to her. "Me?" she asked. "Come and watch Quidditch practice?" Harry nodded. "You don't have to, if you don't want," he said quickly. "I just thought that maybe, you know, as a friend--"  
  
"I'd love to." Ginny gave him that tiny, innocent smile. She still had a shyness about her when she was around Harry, and didn't feel entirely comfortable. Still, staring into his eyes, she knew she could trust him. She felt safe. Not dependent on him, just... nice.  
  
Harry paused. "Alright, then," he said, smiling back. Realizing his hand was still on Ginny's arm, it was Harry's turn to go red as he pulled away, slightly embarrassed.  
  
"By the way, what was it you were going to tell me this morning in the Great Hall?" he asked, looking at her quizzically as they walked through numerous winding passages and corridors.  
  
"Oh," replied Ginny, still smiling faintly, "it doesn't matter. So, when's your first practice again?"  
  



	6. Chapter Six

The Frog Princess  
(Ginny's Story)  
  
by Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: As always, everything from HP belongs to its rightful owner, J. K. Rowling, not me. =)  
  
A/N: I finally have a little time to myself now that I'm out of school for the holidays. So, here's the next chapter as promised!  
  
  
  
Chapter Six  
  
  
  
To Ginny's surprise, she managed to contain herself when in Harry's presence. As soon as they returned to the common room, however, she excused herself. She dashed straight back up to the girls' dormitory, gave a great squeal of delight, and flopped down onto her bed.  
  
That did _not_ just happen... did it?  
  
After a few moments, Ginny propped herself up on one arm, breathing deeply. She glanced at the diary that was still sitting on the edge of her bed, but knew deep down that it wasn't the right time to be pouring her feelings into it. She tried to scold herself for thinking so impulsively. _I must stop acting like a child. I'm fourteen!_ She sat up. _Well_, she mused, _at least I managed to catch myself in time. At least I didn't do anything too embarrassing._  
  
She stood up and wobbled unsteadily towards the staircase, an oddly familiar queasy feeling coming over her. She didn't want to believe that Harry Potter still managed to make her feel insanely happy after all this time. She didn't want it to be true, for nothing good would come of it. She was determined to ignore the fact that she was shaking all over.  
  
"Oi, Harry! All right there, mate?" called Fred. Harry had been so distracted looking at something else that he barely noticed the Bludger heading straight towards him. He only looked up when he felt it brush past his left ear, the breeze ruffling his hair. _Swoosh_. Harry started and clung to his broom to keep from sliding off.  
  
Though still a little shaken, he assured Fred that he was fine while George sped after the Bludger and aimed for it with his club.  
  
The something Harry had been staring at was a certain redhead that was making her way into the otherwise empty stands below. "Ginny," Harry said quietly to himself, gazing down at her in wonder as she took a seat. Practice was halfway over. While he'd been devoting his attentions primarily to spotting the Snitch, he was beginning to wonder whether or not Ginny had forgotten her promise to show up.  
  
Meanwhile, Ginny was scanning the skies for any sign of Harry or the Snitch. Obviously, she didn't expect to find him staring back down at her. He gave her a quick wave and returned to the game.  
  
Ginny caught a flash of red hair shooting around a goal post just in time for the person to catch the Quaffle. A third Weasley, Ron, had joined the team as Keeper. He appeared to be having the time of his life as he showed off for the rest of the time, making spectacular saves. Straining her eyes in the bright sunlight, Ginny could see the grin on her brother's face as he whirled around on his broomstick and caught the Quaffle almost effortlessly, yawning exaggeratedly to give a greater effect.  
  
Ginny opened up her bag. She had an idea. Pulling out her diary, she found a blank page and picked up her quill. She paused for a moment to study the sky above. Soon she focused her attention on the paper and carefully began to sketch, which isn't easy with a feathered quill, but the thin lines slowly began to take shape. She looked up at Harry now and then before returning to her drawing.  
  
When she finished, the bit her lip and studied the portrait carefully. It was almost an exact likeness of Harry, although through the eyes of an artist, there's always room for improvement. Ginny supposed it was close enough. She was quite proud of the way she'd managed to capture the exact sparkle she had imagined in his eyes as he reached forward, hands outstretched, to capture the tiny winged Snitch. She smiled, satisfied, and gazed at the picture, barely realizing how much time had passed. A voice interrupted her, telling her that Quidditch practice had ended.  
  
"Hello, Ginny."  
  
Ginny didn't have to guess who it was. She hadn't managed to close the book in time. "What were you drawing?" Harry asked, peering down at the page. Ginny could feel her face and ears growing red. "It's nothing," she lied, snapping the book shut. "Actually, it's not even mine." Harry grinned at her. "Come on, let me see."  
  
He gently took the book from her hands and opened the the page that was bookmarked. His eyes widened and his face went slightly pink.  
  
_Run, Gin!_ thought Ginny. _Start running, right now! Back to the castle! He's tired from practice - he might not be able to catch you if you sprint!_ But her legs refused to move, and Ginny remained frozen in place, humiliated.  
  
"Er... it's very good," Harry told her. "It... it looks just like me."  
  
"I didn't draw that," said Ginny in what she hoped was a very standoffish sort of way. "A friend of mine did. It's not even--"  
  
But Harry's eyes flickered down to the corner of the page, where Ginny had signed her initials inside a small heart shape. He gave her a knowing smile and handed the book back. _Why_, thought Ginny to herself, _does he have to smile like that?_ "So..." he said awkwardly. "You're a really good artist... do you draw much?"  
  
Ginny hoped he hadn't meant to say, "Do you draw _me_ much?" He probably didn't, but just in case, she quickly shook her head. It was an obvious lie, but she couldn't risk it.  
  
Ginny was thoroughly relieved when Ron approached them, beaming; she didn't want to talk about herself anymore.  
  
"Did you see that, Gin?" he asked his sister happily. "Did you see that save!?"  
  
Ginny nodded, smiling politely, though she was just as happy for Ron as _he_ was. "You're a natural, Ron," she said enthusiastically. She was happy that her brother had something he was really good at, something he could take pride in. But she didn't get to say much more, because the rest of the team rushed over and began congratulating him. When Ginny looked over at Harry, he, too, was talking excitedly with Ron.  
  
George shouted over the noise, and Ginny looked up as he and Fred came over. "We need to talk to you later," said Fred in a low voice. "Meet us in the usual spot in the common room, okay?"  
  
Eventually Harry, Ron, and Ginny fell behind as the rest of the team hurried back to the castle to get changed. Harry was grinning as Ron boasted playfully. "And then I came shooting around that goal post and caught it anyway!" he laughed. "But I had you worried, there, didn't I?"  
  
Just then, without warning, Harry came to a sudden halt. The expression on his face changed. He jerked his head towards the Forbidden Forest.  
  
"Harry, what is it?" Ginny asked, her brown eyes full of concern.  
  
Ron was confused. "What'd I say?" he asked Ginny.  
  
Harry shook his head. "It's nothing... I just thought I heard something coming from over there." He pointed towards the dark, shadowy forest and sighed. "I must have been hearing things."  
  
But Harry had only taken a few more steps when he heard the noise again, clearer and sharper this time. It was the sound of a dog barking, and this time, all three of them heard it. Leaves rustled, twigs snapped, and before long, a large black dog appeared at the edge of the forest. It barked again and sat down expectantly. It appeared to be... _grinning_.  
  
Harry blinked.  
  
"Sirius!"  
  



	7. Chapter Seven

The Frog Princess  
(Ginny's Story)  
  
by Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling is the creator of everything that is Harry Potter; this is fan work created for your enjoyment and mine, not for profit.  
  
A/N: Yes, Sirius is back! Expect to see more of him in the future, as well. Things will get a bit more serious in this chapter - no pun intended.  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
  
  
"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down but failing. His face broke into a smile as he started to run. The black dog stood and wagged its tail happily. One would have thought it was just an ordinary animal, a dog like any other...  
  
_What is he doing?_ Ginny thought to herself. _He's crazy! He can't just _run_ into the Forbidden Forest like that!_  
  
But he did, and Ron followed, so Ginny had no choice. The full reality of what was happening didn't hit her until they were a little way into the forest, out of sight and out of earshot, just in case anyone happened to notice them. It was then that she realized who the dog was.  
  
Turning the corner, she saw that the dog was no longer there, but in its place was a rather handsome man. He was tall and thin, with dark hair and eyes. He wouldn't have done so normally, but he was so happy to see Harry that he caught him in a big hug. "How was your summer?" he was asking.  
  
"Sirius Black," she murmured. Noticing Ginny, Sirius looked up. He looked extremely surprised to see her there, but then gave her a tiny smile. "That's right. And... you must be Ron's sister?"  
  
Ginny swallowed. It was all she could do just to nod. An odd look came over Harry's face as he realized he wasn't sure just how much Ginny knew. Ron had told him that he and Mrs. Weasley had called a sort of 'family meeting' over the summer, very carefully explaining to everyone the whole situation with Sirius Black. According to Ron, Ginny was well aware of the fact that Sirius was an innocent man. But she still looked as if she had no idea what was going on.  
  
"Er... Ginny?" Ron said carefully, biting his lip. "You do remember what we talked about this summer, don't you?" He looked at Harry.  
  
She stared fearfully at Sirius. All she could think was, _Harry Potter has just hugged a convicted murderer. Harry Potter has just _hugged_ a convicted murderer!_ The smile had vanished from Sirius' face. Ginny, without fully realizing it, was backing away slowly.  
  
"Ginny," said Harry in a soothing tone. "You're perfectly safe. Please... it's very important that you don't panic..."  
  
Ron was staring at his sister nervously. Ginny went pale and couldn't speak for several seconds. She had stopped moving backward, which Harry thought was a good sign, although she'd only stopped because her legs suddenly felt like jelly. She could barely control them enough to take another step, and didn't trust herself to walk. She felt as though she would collapse at any second.  
  
Ron approached Ginny and put a hand on her shoulder. He lowered his voice so only she could hear him. "I know it's hard, but it's really important right now that you hear me out. Just stay calm." Ginny was breathing deeply and staring up into her brother's face. Her eyes were wide with fear, but for Ron's (and Harry's) sake, she struggled to control it.  
  
"Listen to me. This man" - he pointed to Sirius - "is innocent. You have to think back. Remember what Mum and I told everyone? About Scabbers? About Sirius Black?"  
  
Strangely enough, Ginny was somehow comforted by being spoken to like a little girl. It made her think that maybe she was rushing things, that maybe she didn't want to grow up completely. She nodded, deciding to put full trust in her brother. "Yes, all of it," she said weakly. "I... I remember."  
  
"Alright, Ginny. That's good." Ron patted her shoulder gently. "Just keep thinking back to what I told you. Sirius is an innocent man, and you've got to believe me." He gave her a reassuring smile. "You do believe me, right?"  
  
Ginny had to smile.  
  
Sirius spoke up. "I apologize for frightening you," he said, a touch of sadness in his words. "Ginny, was it?"  
  
She nodded. She was feeling very faint, and a little sick, as if she might throw up. She glanced over at Harry, who was actually looking at her with a considerable amount of concern. Her nerves began to subside. She still didn't trust herself to walk, but she managed to mumble an apology to Sirius Black.  
  
_I've got to stop thinking of him as a murderer,_ she thought guiltily.  
  
"I'm the one who should be sorry," she admitted. "I'm just... I'm just not used to..."  
  
Her words weren't coming out the way she wanted them to, but somehow, Sirius seemed to understand.  
  
  
  
A few minutes later, Sirius had taken out of his pocket a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and was showing it to Harry. "He's been sighted a few times," Sirius said, pacing back and forth while Harry looked over the article on the front page. "A few random attacks. But for the most part, nothing. That's what's worrying me the most."  
  
"You're right," Harry agreed. "It's a relief that he's not resorting to dark magic yet, but--"  
  
"But you're worried because he's planning something," Ginny finished, still pale with fright, but this time from hearing Sirius and Harry openly discuss Voldemort's possible return. "You're worried because... because it's been _too_ quiet... and you think he's up to something."  
  
"Right," said Harry, and Ginny could tell without looking that his emerald green eyes were watching her. It was just a feeling she had.  
  
"Sirius, what d'you think he could be planning?"  
  
Sirius stopped pacing, deep in thought. "It's impossible to say," he muttered, frowning and walking over to Harry. He glanced at the newspaper anxiously. "But you know the drill. For right now, you're going to have to--"  
  
"Stay inside the castle," said Harry. "I know, I know..."  
  
"Harry, listen, it's--"  
  
"All for the best?" Harry offered, interrupting his godfather once more.  
  
"Yes, and--"  
  
"And _don't_ get involved. And leave it to you and Dumbledore, you'll figure things out, I can't risk getting in trouble again. And don't go _looking_ for Voldemort."  
  
Ginny wondered if Harry had practiced this little speech. Sirius sighed wearily. "Yeah, I think that's pretty much everything."  
  
"I know," said Harry. "I'm told the same thing every year. I don't go around _looking_ to get into trouble, bad things just sort of find their way to me. But..." He looked up at Sirius and sighed. "I'll try."  
  
"You will? Promise?"  
  
Harry thought. "I _can't_ promise anything. But... yes. I will try."  
  
"...Thanks, Harry," was all Sirius could think to say.  
  
  
  
That night, Ginny was having a lot of trouble sleeping. Well, in all truth, she hadn't exactly been trying to get to sleep. She'd stayed awake in the common room long after she had planned on going to bed. By nine o'clock, some of the students were still awake, but Ginny didn't feel like talking. She decided to go and sneak into the kitchens for a bit of food - she'd have to be very careful not to be seen, of course, but she'd have a bit of time to herself to think on the way there.  
  
Without speaking a word, she got up, crossed the room, and pushed open the portrait hole. Just as she was about to climb out into the corridor, she bumped into someone.  
  
"Harry?" she said. She hadn't heard any footsteps. Either he'd been waiting outside, or he'd appeared out of nowhere. He looked a great deal surprised to see Ginny, of all people.  
  
Harry greeted her with a wave. He was carrying plates of food from the kitchens. Ginny saw this and raised an eyebrow. Harry began to explain. "Er, I... okay, I went down to see a friend of mine, and he wanted me to take--"  
  
Ginny laughed, getting over the initial queasy feeling that had resurfaced as soon as she saw Harry again. "Don't worry, it's fine. I was actually thinking of doing the same thing," she admitted.  
  
"Is everyone still awake?" asked Harry. Ginny nodded. "Pretty much," she said.  
  
"Oh... I was kind of hoping they'd be asleep by now. Just... er, wanted a bit of--"  
  
"Privacy?" Ginny smiled.  
  
Harry stopped, a faint smile crossing his lips as well. _How does she_ do _that?_ he wondered. "Yeah," he said. Suddenly he blushed, remembering his manners. Ginny had said she was about to go to the kitchens for food. "Er... would you like some?" he said, offering Ginny a tray of biscuits and a glass of milk, which she gratefully took.  
  
"How are you able to carry all of that?" Ginny questioned. Harry grinned. "Well... practice," he said rather sheepishly. "And it's not as much as it looks like. I have to go and give these to Ron and Hermione, but d'you want to walk around a bit?" Ginny agreed, and waited patiently in the corridor.  
  
_He wouldn't leave me out here, would he?_ Ginny wondered. But Harry soon reappeared, and the two of them started on their walk. They strolled down to the end of the corridor, both a bit nervous after their meeting with Sirius in the Forbidden Forest. Ginny took a sip of milk from her glass, and finally voiced one of the concerns that had arisen that evening.  
  
"Harry, did you mean what you said to Sirius earlier?" she asked carefully, not wanting to upset Harry, but curious to know whether he'd been telling the truth.  
  
"What, about staying out of things?" Harry replied. He paused. "Yeah, I did."  
  
Ginny nodded, but there was something else on her mind.  
  
"But you won't go looking for him, will you?" As Ginny said this, Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Ginny continued, "No, that's not what I meant..." She bit her lip. "I know you don't mean for anything to happen the way it does. I just... worry about you." She looked away, ashamed that she had told him this. It's a good thing it was dark, or he'd see her blushing again, like some lovesick schoolgirl. She shuddered at the very thought.  
  
"You do?" said Harry, breaking the silence.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Harry thought about this. A small voice inside him was saying, _She thinks about me! She worries about me!_ But it had been a stupid question, and he felt guiltier than ever when he reflected upon just how many people were constantly worrying for his safety. Especially when he had let so many people down...  
  
Ginny hesitated. "Er... Harry... don't ever feel guilty," she said to him. He stared at her again. _Don't look into his eyes!_ Ginny reminded herself, as if doing so would result in some kind of terrible curse. Then again, maybe it would.  
  
"You've read my mind again," he stated. It had been a good twenty minutes or so, and they turned back the way they had come, retracing their steps.  
  
"What do you mean 'again'?" asked Ginny, smiling to herself.  
  
Harry allowed himself a quiet chuckle. "You seem to be reading my thoughts a lot lately. That's all."  
  
As they returned to the common room, Ginny's deep brown eyes kept wandering to Harry. She studied his profile silently. It wasn't so bad, just being friends... she supposed. But was that all it was ever going to be?  
  
They reached the portrait hole, but before entering the common room, they stopped. Ginny wanted to do something, anything... but she'd have to act quickly before the opportunity was lost. Without thinking, she took Harry's hand in hers, gave it a tiny squeeze, and smiled at him.  
  
"Harry... thanks," she said before releasing his hand.  
  
Harry blushed. "Anytime."  
  
Now Ginny was able to crawl under the covers feeling a little more at ease. She snuggled against the blankets, and as soon as she closed her eyes, sleep had taken her. It had been a very tiring day.  
  



	8. Chapter Eight

The Frog Princess  
(Ginny's Story)  
  
by Frog-Princess  
(ginny@darkcastle.com)  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: See previous disclaimers. The main idea is, everything is (c) J. K. Rowling.  
  
A/N: This chapter is very short, but I thought it was about time we have a small glimpse of what Voldemort is up to, so we'll be taking a bit of a detour from the Ginny storyline, sorry ^^; More with H and G in the next chapter...  
  
  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
  
  
Peter Pettigrew stared up uneasily at the twinkling stars above, wishing he were anywhere else. Anywhere but here, deep within the forest near a small, secluded cave. Anywhere but with his master.   
  
He shook his head to clear the thought, scolding himself for thinking that way. Not because he cared for his master, not because he had pledged his allegiance so long ago, but because he knew Voldemort had the ability to peek into the thoughts of his servants at will.  
  
"Wormtail."  
  
Peter jumped. The voice cut through the air like a knife, and the man felt as though he'd plunged into a cold, icy lake. The tiny hairs on the nape of his neck were standing on end.  
  
"Y-Yes, My Lord?" Peter stuttered. _Don't stutter,_ he thought, _the master can sense fear..._  
  
"Young Potter was in these very woods today," said Voldemort menacingly. "Why was I not informed?"  
  
"I... I-I thought you knew, My Lord."  
  
"Thought I knew? Thought I knew?" Voldemort repeated Peter's words darkly, sounding amused. "Of course I knew. I could feel his presence, Wormtail, even before Nagini announced it. I could smell it in the very air you breathe." He glared at his servant. "The point is, _you_ did not approach me with this news. What if I had failed to detect him, and he caught me completely off guard? What if there had been a confrontation? I'm beginning to think you'd _like_ it if your master met a gruesome and untimely end."  
  
Peter fell to his knees, shaking his head. "Never, Your Lordship! I'd never think of it!"  
  
"You _are_ thinking it, Wormtail," Voldemort said. He crouched down, extending one hand, and took hold of Peter's face. "I know it. You can't hide your thoughts. You no longer _have_ your own thoughts." Peter screamed out. Voldemort's skin burned him to the touch. "Master!" he sobbed. Voldemort tightened his grip.  
  
"P-Please!" Peter sobbed. "Have mercy!"  
  
Voldemort released the man, who sank to the ground in a quivering heap.  
  
"Quiet," he hissed, hearing Peter's cries. "I have decided to bestow upon you a great honor." He laughed his chilling, mirthless laugh. "My plan must be foolproof. I cannot afford to let Potter slip through my fingertips again. And you, Wormtail, are to play the most important role."  
  
"Yes, master," Peter whimpered between sobs.  
  
"I understand that Potter met with his godfather today?" It sounded like a question, but Peter knew better than to answer, settling on giving a single, anxious nod instead.  
  
Voldemort seemed to be thinking about something.  
  
"Shall... shall I put an end to these meetings, My Lord?" Peter inquired.  
  
"No, Wormtail," replied his master. "If we show ourselves before the time is right, the plan will surely fail, and all shall be revealed. No," he said, frowning, "this is good... very good indeed. All we have to do is wait for the right time before we strike. I wouldn't worry... I have a feeling we won't have to wait much longer."  
  



End file.
